


shaky hands

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (technically) - Freeform, CANONICAL FOREHEAD TOUCHING, Canon Compliant, Forehead Touching, Introspection, M/M, POV Multiple, Spells & Enchantments, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: The borealis is a shining beacon in the distance, slowly getting closer to the ship as it rocks gently through the air. Blues and greens and purples stretch across the sky, shimmering slightly against the stars in the background.It would be beautiful - is beautiful, really, if Zolf wasn’t preoccupied with worrying about how the wild magic could affect the ship. Or, less importantly, himself. Earhart had been… cagey isn’t really the right word, but it’s the closest, about what wild magic can do. Zolf thinks it’s less because she doesn’t want to tell him and more because she’s peeved that she doesn’t actually know that much. Even Siggif and Friedrich, with all their experience (hands on, in Friedrich’s case) hadn’t been able to give a definite answer for what Zolf could expect.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Zolf Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	shaky hands

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know this is cliche yes i KNOW but also come on forehead touching... i am only so strong... this started out as crack but also is it? 
> 
> title is from 'the runner and the lover' by mnthl i adore this song
> 
> i’m definitely projecting a bit and i’m moving hamid slightly to the left in terms of characterization. i fully admit that. either way, hope y'all enjoy

The borealis is a shining beacon in the distance, slowly getting closer to the ship as it rocks gently through the air. Blues and greens and purples stretch across the sky, shimmering slightly against the stars in the background. 

It would be beautiful -  _ is  _ beautiful, really, if Zolf wasn’t preoccupied with worrying about how the wild magic could affect the ship. Or, less importantly, himself. Earhart had been… cagey isn’t  _ really  _ the right word, but it’s the closest, about what wild magic can do. Zolf thinks it’s less because she doesn’t want to tell him and more because she’s peeved that she doesn’t actually know that much. Even Siggif and Friedrich, with all their experience (hands on, in Friedrich’s case) hadn’t been able to give a definite answer for what Zolf could expect. 

He doesn’t like not knowing things. Especially when they’re potentially - definitely - threatening the people he cares about. They don’t have  _ time  _ to try and figure it out, though. The world is counting on them, and it’s slowly burning beneath them with every extra minute they take. Zolf doesn’t know how long their forces can hold up; there’s no time to try and circumvent the borealis, and they’re going to be hitting it in less than an hour if his predictions are correct. Wilde can steer the ship if he goes down - he wasn’t the  _ best  _ student, and Zolf still thinks that Barnes should have been the backup instead, but at least there’s a plan in place.

Cel seems anxious about the anti-magic box, but there’s not much any of them can do about it now. They just have to hunker down and...  _ hope,  _ Zolf thinks wryly. At least he’s got  _ that _ in spades.

Earhart calls the order and Zolf steels himself, starting to head toward the wheel. The familiar anxiety is playing through his veins; this doesn’t feel dissimilar to when they were going to Shoin’s, and he was left alone on the deck. He doesn’t feel much like singing this time around, though. Not when everything is so uncertain. 

A hand gently touches his forearm and he turns, pushing down all the thoughts about how badly this could go until they’re nothing but a quiet echo. Hamid’s stood there, looking up at him. 

“Er, I’ve got a spell that might help?” Hamid offers, looking a bit nervous and anxious and as though he’s not really sure how the offer is going to be accepted. 

“What is it?” he asks, and Hamid’s hand falls from his forearm. 

“Heroism?” Hamid replies, turning it into a question. Zolf’s tempted for a moment to tease, to ask if he’s really  _ sure  _ that’s what the spell’s called, but he doesn’t think it’ll be appreciated what with how… tense everything is. 

“Right, I mean - sounds helpful,” Zolf says instead, trying to land on accepting instead of dubious. 

“If - if that’s okay?” Hamid asks again, because he’s  _ always  _ been like that. 

Zolf nods; he isn’t going to say  _ no  _ to help, he’s not  _ Wilde  _ with his insurmountable pride. If Hamid’s spell can help him  _ not die  _ out there, then he’s going to accept it. Even if Hamid is looking at him like he doesn’t know where to begin, hands shaking a bit as he considers Zolf. 

He and Hamid are… they’re still walking on eggshells around each other, a bit, because so many things are left unsaid and neither of them really like to talk much about their emotions, regardless of how Hamid presents himself. It’s - it’s fine. He’s fine. This is what happens when you leave someone behind and they return from the dead after nearly two years. Maybe one day they can…. he doesn’t know. Relearn each other, maybe. But for now it’s just… an awkward history that they can’t figure out how to move around. 

“Just - come here,” Hamid says, and Zolf does, taking a hesitant step forward. 

Hamid reaches out a hand, as hesitant as anything as though he’s afraid Zolf is going to back away. Zolf wishes he could tell him that he’s not planning on leaving anymore, but he doesn’t know how to make the words  _ work,  _ so he just. Stays silent. Hamid touches one shoulder and murmurs something under his breath, nothing Zolf can make out. His eyes are closed as he casts the spell, and his hand is warm on his shoulder, even through the gear. His other hand comes up, resting on Zolf’s other shoulder as he starts speaking again. Zolf thinks it’s the same words as before; it’s lulling, almost, a rhythm that he can latch on to. 

The power is starting to build around them; electricity is crackling through the air between the two of them, and Zolf can feel it thrumming where Hamid’s hands rest on his shoulders. He can feel them stretching, bending, shifting into claws, but the sharp nails don’t dig into his skin the way they have in the past.

His own hands hang down awkwardly at his sides, but he doesn’t know what else to do with them. And he can’t stop looking at Hamid, either. He's. Really close. They haven’t been this close since Hamid fell asleep against his side and Zolf carried him back to his room and gently tucked him into bed. Zolf can feel the blush on the back of his neck and hopes that it isn’t visible on his cheeks - or to anyone nearby. 

“Can - can I -“ Hamid says, quiet and  _ imbued  _ with magic. He’s staring straight ahead at Zolf’s chest, not looking him in the eye, but Zolf just mutters a quiet, “alright, then,” and Hamid pushes up onto his tiptoes even as he puts pressure on Zolf’s shoulders to pull him down. 

In the space of a heartbeat, Zolf thinks Hamid might - but, no, only his forehead presses against Zolf’s, as warm as a furnace. He begins murmuring again, the same words as before, and the power spreads through Zolf, now, makes him feel… stronger. Sturdier. His anxiety quiets, even if only for a moment, as Zolf lets his eyes slip closed, pressing his forehead back against Hamid’s.

He thinks he might just - 

Someone clears their throat, and Hamid ducks away; the warmth goes with him, and Zolf’s left feeling a bit bereft in the chilly wind that blows across the deck of the ship. Hamid’s far away, now, farther than Zolf would like him to be, but he shoves that thought down deep, as deep as he can. It’s - he needs to be past that, now, because who was and who he is and what  _ they  _ were is just a story left untold and Zolf isn’t going to change that by  _ wishing.  _ And he has a  _ job  _ to do, anyway, so - nevermind. 

“Be safe,” Hamid says, chewing on his lip, and Zolf gives him one last look, halfway to thanking him before the words die in the back of his throat.

“I’ll try,” he says instead; there’s nothing else he can promise. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Wilde that he has no intention of self-sacrifice, but he can’t guarantee that the wild magic won’t affect him in a way he isn’t expecting. But he will  _ try  _ to be safe. For Hamid. For  _ all  _ of them. And for himself. 

Hamid gives him half a smile and Zolf turns, heading over to the wheel. He feels  _ bouyed,  _ almost, and supposes it’s the spell making him a bit more alert, a bit lighter in his steps. Maybe it’s Hamid, too, the knowledge that things aren’t irreparably different between them. Whatever it is, Zolf doesn’t feel as stressed and worried as he did before, and that’s as much a gift as anything else. 

He doesn’t watch everyone head into the antimagic room, but he does turn around before Cel goes in and gives them a thumbs up. They’d been worried about the room, but he has faith in them. They smile but don’t stick around, ducking into the antimagic room with everyone else apart from Azu and Hamid. Zolf turns back around and takes his place at the wheel, a solid bulwark against the oncoming storm. The borealis can try whatever it wishes; he’s not going to bend. 

Not today. 

—

Azu’s having a bit of a complicated… day? Week?  _ Time?  _ It’s all strange, on the ship, with everyone pulling different hours and shifts to ensure everything is working properly. And it doesn’t help that so much is going on at once, with very little time to relax or sit down and have a think about it.

When they get to Svalbard, they might be exhausting the single chance they have to find something to save the entire world. Azu’s trying really hard not to think about that, but sometimes it gets impossible not to. And, she’s worried about the wild magic. Zolf doesn’t seem too stressed out - or, if he is, he isn’t  _ showing  _ it, which she supposes isn’t actually worth much. But she still doesn’t like it.  _ And,  _ she  _ also  _ wants to hold Kiko’s hand, but they haven’t said whether or not they want it to be a big  _ thing  _ \- and, yes, everyone… well, Hamid and Zolf and Cel, knows that she and Kiko shared a little kiss, but maybe that was  _ it,  _ or Kiko isn't  _ interested,  _ and...

She just. Has a lot running through her mind, at the moment. Knowing that she's going to be spending a not-insignificant amount of time in a tiny room isn’t helping, either. Cel made it as big as they could, and Azu appreciates that, but it’s still… not her first choice on where to spend the next few hours of the trip. 

It explains why she doesn’t even notice that Zolf and Hamid have slipped away from all of them, that Hamid’s pulled Zolf over to the side and been talking quietly with him. She does, however, notice when Hamid tugs Zolf down, and for a moment she thinks they might  _ kiss,  _ but, no. Hamid presses their foreheads together and she can see his lips move, can sense the magic curling around the two of them, and she realises he’s casting a spell. 

She almost feels like she should look away, as though she’s encroaching on a private moment in between the two of them. She still hasn’t heard  _ much  _ about their history together, only an awkward explanation from Hamid that ended up with him saying that he trusted Zolf and that it was  _ complicated,  _ and he’d looked so sad and regretful while saying it that Azu had thought there  _ had  _ to be more to it than just that. 

It seems to have been. All of the arguments, all of the tension surrounding the two of them make more sense in the light of  _ this,  _ even though Azu isn’t completely sure what the  _ this  _ is truly referring to. It’s clear that there was  _ something  _ there, once, even if neither of them would ever admit to it, or confessed it at the time. But there’s something to how Hamid’s claws curl into the collar of Zolf’s coat, something to how Zolf seems to sink into him, tension finally bleeding out of his shoulders as the worried lines on his face finally smooth out into a sense of peace, that makes Azu think that the two of them  _ really  _ need to have a discussion. 

Kiko’s hand finds hers, then, fingers linking together in a way that’s both subtle and  _ certain,  _ and squeezes. Azu squeezes back, and then Kiko’s fingers are gone, hand tucked back in her pocket as though nothing had ever happened, but the promise remains. Well. That’s one worry gone, then. 

Earhart clears her throat and Zolf and Hamid spring apart. Hamid stumbles back to Azu’s side and then gives a weak smile, but Azu doesn’t think anyone else will notice the slight darkening of scales on the back of his neck, the closest to blushing she’s ever seen him do before.

“Be safe,” Hamid says, too quiet for most of them to hear, but Zolf nods.

“I’ll try,” he says, and then turns away, looking a bit stronger and surer than he normally does, as he heads toward the wheel.

Everyone starts to file inside, but Hamid and Azu linger. She doesn’t say anything, leaving Hamid free to start a conversation about it if he wants. One thing she’s learned over the years is that people will talk when they want to, and that you can’t force them into sharing how they’re feeling most of the time. Hamid’s no different; he wears his heart on his sleeve, a bit, but prodding him to speak about it will only make him clam up. 

“We should go in,” he eventually says, once everyone’s inside, and Azu nods, respecting his silent wish not to speak about it right now. 

She takes a deep breath; she’s not looking forward to spending even  _ more  _ time inside a small, cramped,  _ suffocating  _ room, and it isn’t helped by the nerves spiking through her blood at the thought of the wild magic affecting the ship in ways they can’t fix. 

_ It will be fine _ , she thinks, and smiles down at Hamid when he reaches up and gives her hand an encouraging squeeze. 

They’ll get through this, too. 

—

Cel runs their hand along the outside of the anti-magic room; their fingers are only shaking slightly as they do so, and their mouth is turned down in half a frown. There isn’t any more time to make additions or changes to the room; they just hope that they’ve done enough to keep the wild magic from creeping in around the cracks.

This isn’t the first time they’ve had to hole up from an encroaching bout of wild magic, and they’re sure it won’t be the last. A lot of their trek across America involved having to find some place to weather the storm, usually on short notice. However, this  _ is  _ the first time they’ve had to construct an anti-magic room with so  _ little  _ material, and with more than just themselves counting on it for safety. 

Their friends are relying on them. Hell, the  _ world  _ is, when you come to think of it, because if  _ they  _ die, they’re really the last hope  _ anyone  _ has, and now all of their lives are resting on the, uh, goodwill, Cel supposes, of a force of wild magic and the antimagic room they created. No pressure. None at all. 

Deep breaths.  _ Deep _ breaths. In and out, as steady as the waves on a forgotten shore, just like they’d always been told growing up. It. Will be.  _ Fine. _ They aren’t going to lose their friends again. 

Their hands are still shaking, so Cel takes  _ another  _ deep breath, and digs through their pockets until they find a few glass vials that they can twirl around their fingers until their mind settles a bit. The borealis is getting closer, so they don’t have much time to worry anymore - at least, not much time to worry while still  _ outside  _ \- but that doesn’t mean their thoughts stop racing about what they could have done instead to make it  _ safer.  _

They turn, mouth half open to ask if maybe they should have attached the secondary door in a different area for ease of a quick exit, but the words die in their throat (a feat, really) when they notice Zolf and Hamid off to the side, foreheads pressed together. The glass they were holding slips from their grip and hits the floor, a gentle clink before it rolls away. Ah - Cel realises it’s one of the vials with the new, synthetic, unbreakable glass they’d invented just for this situation. Perfect testing conditions. And it didn’t break! Which would, honestly, be much more of an exciting development if they weren’t preoccupied with thoughts about what’s going to happen when they hit the borealis. 

Earhart clears her throat, and Zolf and Hamid spring apart, both looking distinctly awkward even as Hamid tries to give them all a big smile. They’re both blushing, too, and Cel feels like they’re working through complex differential equations in their head as they look back and forth between Zolf and Hamid. It clicks into place pretty soon, what with the blushing and the awkwardness and the soft smile Azu is giving Hamid, and Cel  _ realises.  _

So  _ that’s  _ why Zolf isn’t into Mr. Wilde. They hide a smile - really, this day is  _ full  _ of surprises, they never do that - as everyone else shuffles into the anti-magic room.

Zolf takes a moment, while walking away, to turn and give Cel a smile and thumbs up. They give him a smile back; their nerves aren’t settled, not even slightly, but it’s nice knowing that someone has faith in them. 

—

It’s instinctive, is the thing. Hamid’s walking over to Zolf before he can think twice about it, is touching his elbow gently to get his attention, and then Zolf is turning to look at him and Hamid has no  _ idea _ what the hell he’s doing. Zolf seems to think the same thing as he looks down at Hamid. 

“Er, I’ve got a spell that might help?” he blurts out, giving Zolf what he’s sure is a feeble attempt at a smile. 

“What is it?” Zolf asks, looking only slightly dubious. Hamid can’t blame him. 

“Heroism?” Hamid says, hesitant. It… it sounds  _ stupid  _ now that he’s said it aloud, but it  _ should  _ help, and if Zolf is this determined to throw himself in the path of danger to spare the rest of them, Hamid can at least make it easier for him. 

“Right, I mean - sounds helpful,” Zolf says.

“If - if that’s okay?” Hamid hedges, because things have been  _ weird  _ between the two of them ever since he woke up in the cell in Japan. They got normal for a bit, and then got weird and awkward again, and Hamid just… doesn’t know how to  _ fix  _ it. That’s… something for another time. 

Zolf nods, so Hamid steps forward with a strange feeling in his throat. He feels a bit foolish; the spell had come to him in a dream, a tale of a far away land where he was meant to save a princess, and when he’d awoken, the spell he’d used in the dream had been on the tip of his tongue. It had felt like the scales on the back of his neck  _ responded  _ to the newfound knowledge, a satisfied purring in the back of his mind. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, settling himself. He reaches out and sets a hand on Zolf’s shoulder, fingers curling around the muscle. The words for the spell rise unbidden to his mind, and Hamid feels as though he’s watching from a great distance as he mutters the words. Power begins to thrum through his veins, a fire burning up inside of him, but the fire doesn’t hurt; it feels  _ right.  _ He lets his subconscious guide him, placing his other hand on Zolf’s other shoulder and murmuring some more of the incantation. 

Hamid’s hands shift into claws, sharp nails extending from scaly, brass fingers, and his eyes blink open slowly. The final words of the spell rest comfortably in his mind, pushing him forward. 

“Can - can I?” Hamid says, not completely sure what he’s even  _ asking  _ for. 

“Alright, then,” Zolf responds, speaking quietly as though he’s worried he’ll break the spell otherwise. 

With a soft breath, Hamid pulls him down and presses his forehead against Zolf’s, ignoring the slightly surprised noise he makes. Zolf’s forehead is pleasantly cool against his, a grounding point for Hamid to focus on as he murmurs the rest of the incantation. The power settles around them, dancing across their skin. 

Zolf… slumps, is the only way to explain it. His shoulders sag under Hamid’s claws, lose the tension they’d been holding, and Hamid swears he can hear Zolf let out a nearly-silent breath of relief. He takes a moment to open his eyes, and the lines on his face are evened out, some of the worry around his eyes has lessened. He’s leaning  _ into  _ Hamid, almost, and Hamid doesn’t really want to step away. At some point, his claws had gone from Zolf’s shoulders to gripping the lapels of his coat, and for a second Hamid realises he could -

Someone clears their throat and Hamid snaps back into himself, stumbling backward as fast as he’s able. There’s no use trying to cover anything, but he gives it a try anyway, smiling as though everything is normal at everyone else. 

No one seems to buy it - or  _ care,  _ really, which Hamid supposes is… fine. Zolf is still stood there near him, looking awkward as anything, and Hamid almost wishes the floor could swallow him up just so he didn’t have to deal with the aftermath. But, honestly, it’s not even like anything  _ happened. _ It was just - a spell. Nothing more. 

“Be safe,” he whispers, because there’s nothing else  _ to  _ say, and Zolf swallows heavily before nodding. 

“I’ll try,” he says, and then turns around to head toward the wheel. 

Hamid watches him go, heart fluttering a bit in embarrassment and worry. He wrings his hands, keeping it as hidden as he can, but eventually everyone else is in the room apart from Azu, who’s stood next to him in a silent invitation to talk. It’s - Hamid appreciates it, appreciates  _ her,  _ but… now’s not the time. 

“We should go in,” he says, trying to keep the hesitation muted, but Azu seems to pick up on it anyway, even as she remains quiet. He notices her tense as they both turn to head inside.

Right. Small spaces.

Hamid reaches up and squeezes her hand for a moment. He knows that this isn’t her idea of a safe or fun time, but he hopes that she knows that Hamid is here for her. She smiles down at him, and they head in together. Hamid turns around, staring out at the deck of the ship. 

Zolf’s standing strong at the wheel, shoulders squared as he faces the borealis heads on. It’s the last thing Hamid sees of him before the door shuts, locking them all into the antimagic room for however long it’s going to take. 

He takes a breath. Zolf will be fine. They all will. They have to be.

**Author's Note:**

> HHHHHH when will my ability to write return from war


End file.
